Crossed Paths
by NativeStar
Summary: Spoilers for Mystery Spot. The trickster is waiting to meet someone...


**Title:** Crossed Paths  
**Author:** NativeStar  
**Word Count:** 944 words  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Warnings:** None  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.  
**A/N:** This is written for the spnthurnights contest on LJ. Depending on where you are this is either a little bit late or just in time. I'm hoping for the latter. This was a tough one to write and hasn't been betaed so all mistakes and incoherent ness is entirely my fault.

**Summary:** Spoilers for Mystery Spot. The trickster is waiting to meet someone...

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The man ran a hand down the hood of the jet-black car, admiring the sleek lines and care that had gone into maintaining her. The polish was recent and he was pretty sure the tyres were new.

She was the sole legacy of Dean Winchester. Sam Winchester may be driving her, but the Impala will forever be Dean's.

Sam however, was currently nowhere near the Impala. He was hunting, slaughtering a nest of vampires.

Alone.

Ruthlessly.

Sam. The Trickster sighed. Sam Winchester was the sole reason why he was standing out in the cold, in the middle of the night. He was waiting, and unless he was waiting for the payoff from one of his illusions then he _really_ hated waiting. Plus, if she didn't turn up soon then Sam would return from the hunt, and Sam finding him right now would throw a major wrench into his plan. And he so loved his plan, it'd be such a shame for it to go to waste.

He idly wondered how long it would be before Sam ended up killing himself, one way or another.

"Howdy, there."

He turned and saw a woman standing at the back of the car, her short blonde hair swept up into a stumpy ponytail. Leather jacket and tight jeans. She was easy on the eyes, just how he liked his women.

"Hi,"

She joined him, standing close and invading his personal space.

"Nice car."

"Isn't it just?"

She smiled, hunger in her eyes. Reaching out she ran a hand softly up his arm and across his shoulders before stopping at his neck, her fingers tangling in his short hair.

"What do you say to trying out your backseat?"

"I'd say the body that you're wearing might object, and besides it's not my car. But then, you already know that."

She threw her head back, laughing. Her eyes clouded over black.

"There's no rule against demons and demi-gods enjoying each others company."

"No. It's just my personal taste." Demons left a bitter taste in his mouth. "It's cold out here; let's discuss business in the car. The _front_ seat."

She took a step back, and extended her arm. "After you,"

The doors still creaked when opened, and as the Trickster settled into the leather of the seats he noticed that Sam hadn't cleaned inside the car. The demon moved a box of cassette tapes to the floor before sitting in the passenger seat.

"What did you want?" He asked.

"Oh, nothing you're not already doing."

"And what would that be?"

"Inflicting pain and suffering on the Winchesters."

He huffed a laugh; it seemed the Winchester's really had a knack for pissing people off.

"You're a little late on the newsletter. It's Winchester now. Singular."

"I know. But you're not planning on keeping him that way, are you?"

"Depends." He knew it wasn't the correct answer, it wasn't part of the plan, but he saw no harm in ruffling her feathers a little.

"On what? I shouldn't need to remind you of the terms of our deal, as much as it pains me to say this, Dean Winchester is currently needed alive."

He felt insulted that the sole reason for the meeting was called was to check up on him.

"I know. You keep your end of the deal and I'll keep mine. For what it's worth, you have my word."

She nodded, and seemed appeased but made no move to leave. Instead she twisted, leaning into the door and curling an arm around the back of the seat.

"Dean's deaths, they've been painful, right?" There was an excitement in her voice and a spark in her eyes that told him that this was something more than just a job for her.

"Most of them, but there's only so many ways to kill a guy." He prided himself on his inventiveness and he was particularly proud of a couple, the piano being high up on the list. But, even a Trickster had his limits.

"You should have come to me, I could have suggested...more than a few."

"You could have done your own dirty work. Rather than threatening and coercing me."

She sighed.

"Unfortunately, I've got more important things to do. The Winchester boys are not a top priority right now." She said the words like a well rehearsed line. It was clear she didn't believe them. Orders then.

He grinned.

"But if you had your way?"

"Honestly, right now? I like your style. The only thing those boys have is each other, watching Sam try and fail to save Dean over and over again..." A smile curved at her lips and he found himself almost warming to her; despite how they had met he always appreciated a fan of his work.

"The Winchester's are pathetic." He agreed. "Both of them. Damn self-sacrificing morons. They are so willing to throw their own lives on the line for the other. Not a thought for the consequences. Their worlds have become each other, and that's their greatest weakness."

Truth be told, if they had asked nicely, he probably would have gone along with this plan anyway.

Sam will be back any minute now. They need to leave and he opened his door, the demon doing the same.

"What's your name?" He asked across the roof of the car, out of curiosity more than anything. She's got her assurances and he should never see her again. If he's lucky.

"I'm a little disappointed; I thought for a demi-god you would already know that."

"You go by many names. I was merely being polite and asking which one it was today."

"Meg. Today, I'm Meg."

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